


My Favorite Doll

by flareprincess



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26832406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flareprincess/pseuds/flareprincess
Summary: Trixie’s collection of vintage Barbie dolls has always made her happy. And when Katya, a stranger, calls her by Barbie, Trixie knows she’s struck something new. Katya’s excited to make Trixie into a Barbie doll of her own.To be honest: this fic probably will never get finished. It was intended to be a dollification fic but I just don't think I'll ever finish it. But here are two cute, quick chapters that are a cute coffee shop AU!!!
Relationships: Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova
Comments: 1
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

Trixie felt lucky to live in a rather gay city for many reasons — escaping her bumfuck backwoods country home, being able to be herself, but also… the eye candy. Especially working at Starbucks, a notoriously gay breeding ground despite the basic white girl memery, so many attractive and very clearly gay girls came through her line. But only a few of them ever charmed Trixie enough for her to wish she could talk to them for longer than the 30 seconds they spent at her register. 

Katya caught her eye the moment she walked in the door. It wasn’t just the red lipstick and choppy long bob, but how it all fit together, somehow conveying everything she was about from any distance away. Trixie had to tear her eyes away back to the pasty middle-aged man handing her his credit card and she very nearly grimaced, body in shock from the contrast. 

After what felt like an eternity, Katya was in front of her register. She seemed very direct, yet a little off-beat, not quite making eye contact as she struggled through her purse looking for her wallet. Having retrieved her hidden treasure, she finally looked up — “Hi!” she exclaimed with a chuckle. 

“Hi,” Trixie greeted back. “What can I get started for you?” Her customer service voice masked any sign of personality. 

“Uhh, tall coffee, no room. Thanks.” After she said this, she seemed to do a mental double take. “You look like a Barbie doll,” she mused, somewhat in awe and somewhat amused. “Is that weird to say? That’s weird to say, I’m sorry.” She laughed through all her words, as if simultaneously hyper-aware of her strangeness yet unable to stop it, so she just decided happily following along with where her brain decided to take her. It was profoundly charming — Trixie wanted to be wrapped up in the journeys of her mind, too. 

Trixie let out a quiet cackle of a laugh, caught off-guard. “Is that a compliment?” 

“Uh, I think so!” The wide grin never left Katya’s face, and god, those teeth were the whitest teeth she’d ever seen, disarmingly so. 

“It better be, or else I’ll put cream in your coffee,” Trixie threatened with a smile. 

“Oh no!!” Katya cackled. “How could you!!” 

“Barbie’s got a taste for revenge,” Trixie laughed, effortlessly playing along. This only made Katya laugh harder, and Trixie felt the little tingle in her chest turn into a full-body wave of enjoyment. Somehow in the last 30 seconds they mutually built each other up into full-body cackles of laughter through harmonious wit alone. It was a magical thing. But as this wild woman stood laughing in front of her, the line behind her was growing longer and less patient, so, putting her customer service voice back on, Trixie read Katya her total. 

“Oh! Right!” She just kept on laughing and fumbled for her card — which was, of course, already in her hand. “I forgot!” 

“I have that effect on people.” Did she really just say that?! Trixie had never even come close to flirting with a customer before, but now all of these things were just tumbling out of her mouth and into the world, as if Katya’s energy just took her in and made her the purest version of herself. 

“Ooo!” Katya cooed, simultaneously mocking and playing along. As Trixie gathered her cup, Katya continued their conversation. “Do people call you Barbie a lot?” 

“Not really,” Trixie replied. 

“Well they will now!” It sounded like a promise. Pulling her card out of the chip reader, Katya somehow managed to find a way to get all of her many things in her hands and gave Trixie a polite nod brightened by a wide smile. “Bye.” 

“Have a good day!” Trixie looked down at the cup in her hand and realized she hadn’t gotten Katya’s name. The frustrated middle-aged businesswoman who had just been forced to watch their interaction was already demanding her order, so Trixie just scrawled ‘Ken’ on the cup. She knew she’d understand — and 3 minutes later, when the name was called, Trixie got to hear that maniacal cackle once again, and it sent a shock straight through her soul. Failing to hold back her grin, she caught Katya’s eye from across the store, and they exchanged a knowing and appreciative look before being enveloped back into their separate worlds.


	2. Chapter 2

As much as she loved her room, there was always a kernel of shame stirring in her stomach whenever she brought her any of her miscellaneous tinder dates over to “netflix and chill.” It wasn’t the baby pink walls, it wasn’t 60’s psychedelic bedspread or the fairy lights; it was the massive fucking dollhouse showcasing her collection of vintage Barbies. It was maybe a little much, and Trixie was well aware. If she thought about it too long she’d always be reminded of her hookup with the guy obsessed with Life With Bonnie, which she had repressed not only because it was horrible, but because she saw herself just a little too much in him and his odd obsession. 

But, Trixie loved these dolls. They reminded her of the little glimpses of joy she got in her otherwise hellish childhood. They were symbols of her success and independence: every time she bought a new doll, she was bringing her own joy into her own life because of her hard work, far, far away from the “father” that used to abuse her for this very thing and so much more. But to any observer, these dolls could be anything — the ravings of a classic repressed Wisconsin serial killer, even. At least she knew she wasn’t that. 

She bet Katya would like them. No, even better — she’d let out her wild cackle and make a crack about how extremely on-brand it was, without any hint of shame. It made Trixie’s insides sparkle whenever she thought about it, and she’d been thinking about it more and more often. It was to the point where whenever she looked at her dolls, she thought about Katya and her bright red lipstick, her cigarette behind her ear, her hair that was styled to look as un-styled as possible. 

Her alarm chimed for at least the sixth time that morning, jolting her out of her sleepy yet sparkly train of thought and tearing her eyes away from her dollhouse. She turned her alarm off for good and pressed her palms to her face, letting out a groan as she tried to wake up the muscles and nerves under her skin. The more time she spent in bed, the less time she’d have to get ready, and the less confident she would feel seeing Katya again. 

Probably the worst thing about her job was having to wear all black. Outside of work, the only time she could be caught in black was Halloween, and even that was a stretch. She compensated with her makeup, of course: Trixie only felt complete and ready for the day when she swiped on her hot pink lipstick and popped in her oversized earrings. Today she even matched, her lipstick, blush, blending eyeshadow shade and earrings were all the same striking shade of hot pink, and she couldn’t help but smile at her reflection shining in her lighted vanity. When Katya called her Barbie this morning, she wanted to feel like she had earned it. 

-

The overwhelming smell of freshly brewed coffee assaulted her senses and forced Trixie out of her residual sleepy haze as she walked in the door to her Starbucks to help open for the day. “Morning babe!” her manager, Jinkx, chimed from across the store in her ironically enthusiastic tone. 

“Morning,” Trixie replied automatically, making her way behind the counter and ready to start the day. 

She could feel Jinkx eyeing her from across that room in that little knowing smirk she does when she thinks she knows something. “Are you gonna do it yet?” 

Trixie refused to make eye contact, busying herself. “Maybe.” 

Jinkx let out an overdramatic groan, dropping what she was doing to march over to her and stare her down. “You’ve been obsessed with this girl for a month. Get it together and ask her out!!” She giggled briefly, then emphasized in her theatrical voice, “Ask her out, damn it!” 

With anyone else, Trixie would have been annoyed, but Jinkx’s chastising made her break into an embarrassed yet agreeing laugh. “I know, I know! I just, I don’t know…” Jinkx raised her eyebrows at her from across the counter. “I mean, what if she’s in a relationship? What if we actually start talking and it turns out we don’t get along?” 

“Well, what if, then?” Jinkx challenged. “Just like anything else in life, if it doesn’t work out, you just get on with your life. You’re going to make yourself, and ME, sick if you don’t make some kind of move. I mean come on!” 

Trixie groaned, but couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. Resigned, she asked, “How should I do it?” 

“No. I refuse to believe that you haven’t stayed up at night daydreaming of all the different ways you could ask her out, okay?!” Jinkx’s unwavering intensity only made Trixie laugh harder, covering her face with her hands and retreating into herself. “See?! Just do it!! Aah, I just wanna smack you sometimes!” Trixie peered up at her from between her fingers, grins still on both of their faces, sensing the calming of the other woman’s faux-wrath. “Now,” she started, dramatically calm, “I’m going to go back to doing my job, and you’re going to write your damn PHONE NUMBER on a NAPKIN OR SOMETHING!” She giggled from her chest and went back to stocking the shelves. 

Body still burning with the heat of embarrassment, Trixie croaked out a sarcastic yet resigned “yes ma’am.” 

“Good!!” Jinkx called from across the room, smile still shining on her face. 

When Jinkx finally looked away, Trixie didn’t allow herself to second guess herself or even think at all. She grabbed a pen — pink, of course, which she had personally supplied to the store, for her own sake if nothing else — and scrawled her phone number across it. Scrutinizing it, she panicked that maybe it was illegible, and grabbed a second napkin, writing out each number carefully this time. She folded it carefully and stuck it in her pocket. When she was finished, she stood back up to actually do her job, and immediately saw Jinkx grinning at her with a sense of triumph from across the store. Trixie just bit back a smile and rolled her eyes in a loving Bitch. Now time to distract herself scrubbing countertops and kill time. 

-

Trixie was fundamentally vibrating. It wasn’t just her mind — her entire being trembled with anxiety: her muscles, her bones, her soul. She bounced up and down anxiously behind her register as she took the morning orders of sleepy and bitter office workers, not having enough brainspace to begin to acknowledge that what she was doing was strange. 

When Katya stepped through the door, Trixie’s body immediately surged, her stomach flopped and flipped and flooped, vibrated and sunk and soared. Katya gave her a cute little wave and a stunning grin as she came in, as if they were new friends, or, god forbid, on a first date. Oh fuck oh fuck oh god oh no ohhh I can’t do this! I have to do this. She could feel Jinkx yelling at her without even seeing her, and she tried to block out all the fear. Her hand fumbled in her pocket to check if her minted napkin was still there, which of course it was, she had checked every three minutes since she put it there an hour and a half ago. By the time Katya was next in line, Trixie was avoiding eye contact, not sure what to do, and then—

“Hi Barbie!” Katya greeted with cheer. 

“You ever going to call me by my real name?” she said, looking at her with a clever squint to show she meant well. 

She just beamed, those damned white teeth shining behind her painted red lips. “Nice to see you too.” 

“Always.” She made it sound sarcastic even though they both knew it was true. 

One of the downsides of Katya’s regular patronage was that they had less of an excuse to talk, because knowing her order by heart took her a fraction of the time to ring in. She just pressed the buttons reeeally slow, even though what she really wanted to lean over the monitor and ask her how she was. It also seemed to take Katya extra long to get her card out these days, though Trixie could never tell if that was intentional or if she was just clumsy and forgetful. 

“You have a good weekend?” Trixie asked, feeling awkward, anxious mind not able to come up with a better question. 

“Yeah. You know, scattered some bones across my driveway. Just an average Saturday night.” 

You can scatter my bones any time. Nope — nope. Not a thing to be saying at 7am behind the register at a starbucks. Trixie let out a small burst of a laugh; she never knew what the hell Katya was talking about, but she knew she liked it that way. “For good luck?” 

“No, for bad luck.” She took the receipt out of Trixie’s hand, fingers brushing against each other. 

“Well I’ve got some bad luck for you.” She delved her hand into her pocket desperately as if Katya could disappear any second, and without allowing herself to hesitate, shoved the napkin at Katya ungracefully, hand visibly trembling. 

Katya took it and unfolded it right there on the spot, and every muscle in Trixie’s body tightened. That’s not how that’s supposed to work!! That gives her nowhere to hide! Trixie was certain she was going to die, right then and there, just collapse on the floor of this fucking starbucks and leave this mortal plane for something hopefully less terrifying. But when Katya opened the note, she grinned even wider than Trixie had seen her before, teeth gleaming, a wild yet innocent hopefulness in her eyes. She looked so beautiful this way. Trixie knew she needed to make her smile like this again and again. “Yeah?” she asked promisingly. 

Even behind her layers of hot pink blush, Trixie’s whole face was visibly burning. “Yeah.” 

“Yeah! Yeah, okay. I’ll text you, Barbie.” Katya looked between the napkin and Trixie again, beaming with excitement. Collecting herself just enough to remember to get out of the starbucks line, Katya gave her a charming smile and said, “The bones were for good luck.” 

Despite having learned Katya’s name weeks ago, Trixie scrawled Ken on the cup again.


End file.
